Our Day Will Come
by rokkasen
Summary: "Even if I now saw you only once, I would long for you through worlds, worlds, worlds." - Izumi Shikibu [14 days of short fics for khaleesimaka's 2014 Soul/Maka Valentine Challenge]
1. Day 1 - First Kiss

Day 1 - First Kiss: " _every wednesday at the same damn time you're at the same cereal aisle getting the same cereal brand and i've been trying to make a move on you for ages"_ AU

* * *

He sees her every Wednesday around 9:00 pm in aisle 14 without fail. Soul doesn't know her name but he knows three important things: she is unfathomably cute, goes to NYU (thank you, obnoxiously bright college swag and branding), and has excellent taste in breakfast foods. They have crossed paths a total of eight times since he moved to the city and Soul still hasn't worked up the nerve to say anything more than, "Gotta have those Honey Bran Cluster Oats, huh?"

Whoever "she" is, she is friendly and always flashes him a warm, bright smile before grabbing her box of Honey Bran Cluster Oats. The last time they met, she even waved goodbye before jogging to the self checkout station. It's getting to the point where Soul doesn't even need the damn cereal anymore– he has literally four unopened boxes sitting on top of his refrigerator– he is just looking for an opening to talk to his mystery cereal soul mate.

 _You need to man up and say hi before you deplete New York City of its Honey Bran Cluster Oats_ , his band mate, Kilik, joked. _Do it for the kids who need their cereal, dude._

Soul doesn't want to be held responsible for The Great Honey Bran Cluster Oat Shortage of 2015 and so it is his obligation, no, his _duty_ to say hi to Cute Cereal Girl.

Wednesday night. 9:06 pm. Like clockwork, she appears before him in aisle 14, a vision in her NYU hoodie and plaid skirt. Her dirty blond hair is pulled back into two low pigtails and her steel toed boots look like they could do some serious damage. She is a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. He has so many questions. Why does she need so many boxes of Honey Bran Cluster Oats? Is there is a boyfriend or girlfriend that she is sharing them with? How old is she? Does she like snarky, sarcastic musicians? Does she know that he is bordering on obsessive and it's all because she is both adorable and looks like she could kick his ass and maybe fate has brought them together by way of cereal?

Soul is gross and hates himself and this is the complete opposite of cool. He needs to just pull the trigger, get rejected quickly, and then write a new song about it.

"Oh, hey! I didn't see you here last week," Cereal Girl says cheerfully. "It's weird but I just sort of assume you'll be here at the same time as me."

Was she looking for him? Good sign. "Had a gig," Soul says, hoping he sounds cool and not like his heart just did a backflip from his chest to his stomach.

"Too bad." Soul's face flushes. She was disappointed that he didn't show. "They were having a sale on Honey Bran Cluster Oats and I know you're a fan!" Soul rubs the bridge of his nose. Alright, so this girl is more practical than romantic.

They both reach for their cereal, Soul mentally berating himself for pussying out yet again. He is going to die alone with his keyboard and sixteen thousand boxes of unopened cereal and he deserves it. "Ah," Cereal Girl says as their hands brush. "There's only one box left."

This is it. This is his chance. Soul wants to say something smooth like, "Give me your number in exchange for the last box of Honey Bran Cluster Oats?" but for all of his cool bravado, he is a massive fucking dork that usually hates interacting with strangers. Instead he says: "Whatever. You can have it."

She frowns. "Well, you got here first. You should have it."

"It's fine. Take it." He has enough cereal at home to feed an entire village. He doesn't need the damn cereal.

"No, I insist."

Soul sighs. She is stubborn but he can see her heart is in the right place. "Are we really arguing over cereal?"

Cereal Girl looks thoughtful. "Do you want to share it? I think it's the only fair thing to do. If you're hungry right now, we can go to my apartment."

Whoa. Hold up. Stop everything. Did he just get an invite to her place? Soul sends a silent thank you to the cereal gods for answering his prayers. "Is that really okay? You don't even know my–"

"Soul Evans."

"Or where I–"

"You live two blocks from here."

"And–"

"You're in a band, you come from Boston, and I know for sure your favorite cereal is Honey Bran Cluster Oats. Either that or you have stock in the company."

"That's freaky," Soul sticks his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

Cereal Girl laughs. "Your backpack strap has your name on it, I always see you walking from your apartment, you just told me that you had a gig last week, you have a slight Boston accent, and we've met no less than ten times getting the same cereal. I notice things. I'm Maka, by the way. Maka Albarn."

Maka. Finally, he was getting somewhere. _Hallelu_.

"You shouldn't be so trusting. I could be a serial killer," Soul offers.

"No problem. I have a black belt in Aikido, Judo, Krav Maga."

Cereal Girl– no, _Maka_ – is more awesome than he could have ever hoped.

"Then let's go eat some cereal."

* * *

Soul is two bites into his Honey Bran Cluster Oats before he plucks up the courage to lean across Maka's table to kiss her. It is chaste and short but sweet and Soul is hopeful that he'll be able to see her outside of aisle 14 more often.

They smile goofily at each other and Soul's eyes stray to the top of her refrigerator. Five boxes of Honey Bran Cluster Oats.

"Pfft, you've got it bad," Soul teases, like he isn't guilty of the exact same crime.

"Shut up," Maka blushes. "I just really like cereal."


	2. Day 2 - Chocolate

Day 2 - Chocolate: _"huge crush on the person who works in the shop across from mine in the mall" AU_

* * *

"Go away and shop at a normal store. The lava lamps here give you cancer."

Maka blinked, taken aback Her first instinct was to lecture this guy– Soul, his black name tag said– on customer service. Her second instinct was to yell at him for sitting on store merchandise because who _did_ that?

More specifically, Soul (was that even his real name or just his _Hot Topic_ pseudonym?) lounged on top of a pile of unfolded _My Chemical Romance_ t-shirts and flipped through a Batman comic seemingly without a care in the world. "I'm actually not here to shop. I work at _Choco Loco_ ," she pointed to the kiosk a couple of feet away from the store, "and I just came by to see if you wanted some of these leftover samples."

He finally deigned to look up at her and she wondered if his white hair and red eyes look was a goth-y, vampire thing. He– Soul– dressed relatively normal compared to the sea of the corsets and bondage pants of his coworkers. There was suspicion in his eyes and he reminded Maka of a stray dog that was contemplating approaching a stranger.

" _Choco Loco_ is a dorky name," he offered but took the small plastic cup filled with chocolate covered gummy bears.

Maka bristled. This might have been just a summer job to pay her way through college but she took her work seriously. She wasn't going to just stand there and let some slacker insult her kiosk. "Yeah, well, you work at _Hot Topic_ ," was the only thing she managed to get out through her anger. "Are you really in a position to badmouth someone else's store?"

"Damn. Touché," he grimaced, showing off rows of sharp teeth. Maka wondered if those were natural or a prop from the store. Soul looked over at a row of faux leather collars and sighed. "It's true, this is the place where dreams go to die."

"Then why do you work here?" And why was she still talking to him?

"Desperation," Soul stood up and tossed the empty plastic cup to her. Maka fumbled with it for a brief moment before catching it. "Thanks for the sample."

"Whatever," Maka huffed and briskly walked out. What a jerk, she thought. What an incorrigible, lazy, rude, jerk. Unable to help herself, Maka looked back over her shoulder. Soul gave her a head tilt– some weird form of recognition, maybe?– and a small smirk.

 _Oh no,_ Maka thought with alarm. _He's cute._

"Lunch?"

Maka looked up from the cash register to find herself face to face with Soul from _Hot Topic_. "What?"

"You know," he said, looking more and more unsure of himself as the seconds ticked by, "lunch. A light meal that usually happens in the afternoon?"

"I know what lunch is, thank you very much, but as you can see, I'm very busy."

Soul looked around. The mall was a ghost town and Maka hadn't seen a customer in over three hours. "Oh, yeah, I had to fight my way through the crowd of people dyin' to get mall chocolate on a Sunday afternoon."

Maka ignored him and pretended to look through old receipts. Part of her, she was ashamed to admit, really wanted to accept his invitation. The more logical part of her just wanted to hit him in the head with a plastic tray. "I owe you for the free samples."

"You just want an excuse not to go back to work," Maka accused.

He grinned. He had a nice smile, if a little pointy. "That _is_ another perk."

She put the receipts down. Maka was probably going to regret this. "Bad mall Chinese food on you?"

"Deal."

* * *

Six mall lunches later:

"Can I take you out sometime?" Soul asked quickly around a mouthful of eggroll. "Uh, outside of the mall. Not as a repayment for the free samples. As a date… thing." He groaned. "God, I suck at this."

Maka reached under the table to take his hand. He blushed something furious. She smiled widely. "I think that can be arranged **."**


	3. Day 3 - Hug

Day 3 - Hug: " _Your mail keeps going to the wrong address"_ AU

—

Maka knocks on her neighbors door, shivering in her bunny slippers. The hall window is still cracked and the landlord hasn't put up heat properly since winter started. The Starlight Apartments– not nearly as glamorous as the name implies– boasts broken locks, chipped lead paint, and rusty pipes. It's depressing and a health code violation but it's home.

A young man with a shock of white hair opens the door after two more knocks. Like Maka, he is wearing multiple layers of clothing in an attempt to stave off the cold. "You got my mail again?"

"Yeah, it's the third time this week," Maka says cheerfully and hands over the envelopes. She doesn't mind the mail mix up because it gives her an excuse to talk to him. Maka is a PhD candidate and from what she can gather, her neighbor, Soul Evans, is a musician. They keep almost opposite schedules so getting to chat with him for more than five minutes is rare.

"No heat?" Soul looks down at her feet and smirks. "Nice kicks."

"Thanks," she says. "And no. You?"

"Nah. I invested in space heaters. Probably a total fire hazard but."

Maka sticks her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie in an attempt to warm her chilly hands. "At least if everything goes up in flames you'll be warm?"

He snickers and awkward silence falls over them. Maka wants to talk with him more but she's already played the "I accidentally got your mail" card. Soul opens his door a little more and warm air wafts towards her. It smells like cilantro and her mouth waters, calling to her like a sweet siren song. "Want to come in? I made dinner. It's just pad thai, nothing fancy."

The offer is tempting but Maka doesn't want to look desperate for men or a home cooked meal. Both are extremely appetizing. "Is it really okay?"

Soul shrugs. "I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't."

He shows her to his couch and she makes herself comfortable amongst the sparse pillows. Maka calls to him in the kitchen that she'll repay him in kind and dinner is on her next time. He calls back that her apartment always smells like Cup 'O Noodles, so no thanks, and maybe she should leave the cooking to him. She shrieks indignantly and calls him a jerk; he laughs and brings her a heaping plate of pad thai, so all is forgiven.

Soul is in the middle of pouring her a glass of white wine and asking about her academic research when the lights flicker and then die all together.

"Shit. Heaters are out," he says.

They are shoulder to shoulder on the couch and despite the below zero weather, Maka is warm. Maybe it's the wine or the undeniable pull she feels towards her neighbor but she leans towards him. There is a pause before Soul slowly puts a shaky arm around her shoulders. It's endearing how awkward and stilted the action is.

All in all, Maka thinks, resting her head on his chest, not a bad way to spend a cold night.


	4. Day 4 - Red Rose

Day 4 - Red Rose: " _My best friend is dating a member of your band_ " AU

* * *

They are not dating.

They are just really good friends with a lot of unresolved sexual tension.

"I can't believe you fell asleep during our set," Soul snorts. "Epitome of uncool."

Maka elbows him in the side. It's embarrassing enough that she fell asleep at a bar, let alone during the band's song. Black*Star, childhood friend and Guitar God or whatever he is calling himself this week, had made her swear on her first born child that she would show up to support them even though she has been awake for four days writing papers. "Shush. I said I was sorry!"

"Now you have to make it up to me," he shuts his guitar case with a loud snap.

"How?"

"I'll think of a way."

"Oh my GOD," Black*Star says loudly with an exaggerated sigh, "just MAKE OUT ALREADY, JESUS CHRIST!"

Maka slaps him in the back of the head with a file full of papers. "Idiot! It's not like that."

"It's not?" Tsubaki, Liz, and Black*Star ask in unison. Soul says nothing but busies himself with his guitar.

"No." She doesn't think so, anyway. Maybe? They are walking a fine line into a very gray area. Maka has no idea where they stand, really. They spend a lot of time together doing date-like things, like movie nights and dinners. There has been handholding (big for Soul, who doesn't like people in his personal space) and cheek kisses (big for Maka, who is a huge secret romantic) but no actual confirmation of feelings. "Everyone just– just shut up."

"Soul, you should stand outside her window with a boom box like in 'Say Anything'," Liz teases. "Or show up with a dozen roses. Maka would eat it up."

"Ugh, you guys are the worst," Maka buries her face in her hands. "Soul, say something!"

Soul only arches an eyebrow at her. "You like roses?"

"As far as flowers go, they're not bad," Maka mumbles. "But that's _not_ the point–"

Liz and Black*Star make obnoxious kissing noises and Tsubaki tries to quiet them, only to dissolve into quiet giggles.

"I hate you all."

* * *

The next morning, Maka shuffles out of her apartment to check the mail. Taped to her door is a single red rose paired with an obnoxious orange post-it note.

 _Real date to make up for falling asleep during our concert - y/n?_

"You are such a loser," she says out loud with a big smile and pulls a pen out of her pocket to circle y repeatedly.


	5. Day 5 - Date

Day 5 - Date: _Both stood up for a blind date_ " AU

* * *

"Maka?"

"Soul?"

Soul stares in disbelief as a ghost from his past sits merely inches away from him at the coffee shop. He's feeling a lot of things and feelings generally make him uncomfortable. For a split second she looks equally as uncomfortable but then in typical Maka Albarn fashion, it quickly melts away into some happy-confused hybrid.

"What are you doing here?" his high school chemistry lab partner and first love asks.

Her hair is longer than he remembers and now she is more pretty than cute but everything else about her is the same. Same long legs and same big eyes and same electric smile that starred in many of his pre-pubescent fantasies. His teenage crush on her had been so cliche it was painful– Soul was the rebellious and sarcastic "cool" kid and Maka was the sweet and ambitious valedictorian. They had never dated but they had been good friends before they parted ways for college.

After the initial shock wears off Soul decides that he is happy to see her, more so than he can articulate. "'Meeting a friend here. He was supposed to be–" Soul almost says, _Setting me up with some girl I could care less about_ , but getting ditched on a blind date is so pathetic. "Anyway, he's late. You?"

"Tsubaki– do you remember her?– she was bringing her new boyfriend and his friend here and we were supposed to have a double date," Maka says honestly. "I've been here for over thirty minutes and no one's showed. I think I've been stood up."

What are the chances they had both been stood up? What are the chances they had been stood up in the same coffee shop? It's all too coincidental for a cynic like Soul. He smells a scheme. He opens his mouth to tell her as such but quickly snaps it closed. When is he ever going to get another chance like this?

He looks down at his cell phone. 1 new message from Black*Star, it says. ***** _DUDE, YOU OWE ME BIG TIME*****._

"D'you want to grab a coffee since we're both already here?" Soul asks.

"Good idea!" Maka shrugs her jacket off. "I want to hear all about what you've done since high school. I don't think I've seen you since you threw up on my boots at that graduation party."

Soul groans. He hadn't even thrown up from drinking too much alcohol. He had been battling the stomach flu for days before that party and his idiotic best friend Black*Star forced him to go anyway. He spent most of the party with his head in the toilet or sleeping on Maka's lap. "I told you to forget that."

"Is that why you never answered any of my emails after we graduated?" She asks innocently.

"Partially." _Mostly because I had a stupid crush on you._ "Sorry."

"Forget it. It's in the past." Maka is still too nice for her own good. It's both endearing and frustrating as hell. "But maybe, if you want, since we're both still in the same city, we could hang out–?"

"We've been set up," Soul blurts out. "I'm your blind date."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I see."

"Yeah."

They stare at each other before Maka's lips quirk into another smile. Soul smiles back and they start laughing at the ridiculousness of this "blind date". "What a stupid plan," Maka says between giggles. "I still would have shown up if Tsubaki and Black*Star had just been honest about who I was meeting."

"Really?" Soul asks, trying not to get his hopes up.

"Really," Maka confirms. "So, where are you taking me on our second date?"


	6. Day 6 - Flirst

Day 6 - Flirt: _My over-enthusiastic dog likes you more than me and it's really ruining my game"_ AU

* * *

In the movies, it's adorable when a dog pushes down its owners love interest.

In real life, it's incredibly awkward and mortifying when your 30 lb, incredibly loving but over-enthusiastic stumpy legged corgi headbutts the cute guy from the record store you've been trying to flirt with for three weeks into a dirty puddle of water.

"I am," Maka says, holding on to her wriggling dog, "so, so sorry about this."

Soul stands up, grimacing as he wrings out his once white hoodie. "That dog is a menace to society."

Maka wants to die. Stumpy cranes his head to lick Soul's face. "Stumpy–"

"His name is _Stumpy_? What kind of self respecting dog is named _Stumpy_?"

"It's short for Stumptimus Prime. You know, like Optimus Prime?" Maka explains. "But anyway, he just really likes you and I really am very sorry about this and I'll pay for dry cleaning–"

Soul seemingly accepts his fate and lets the dog kiss him. "You're lucky you're cute," he says to either Maka or the dog. Maybe both. "Give me your cell phone."

Maka fumbles around in her bag and hands it over without question. "I really am–"

"– so sorry, yeah, yeah. Here's my number. In case Stumps over here wants to hang out. You can come too, if you want."

She dumbly waves as Soul lopes back to the record store. "Did you just get me a date?" she asks her dog. He barks enthusiastically in response. "I love you so much right now."


	7. Day 7 - Love Letter

Day 7 - Love Letter: _"Accidentally fell asleep on your couch during a party"_ AU

* * *

Soul hates house parties. Soul hates house parties with loud people. Soul hates house parties with loud people who have abysmal taste in music. It is physically painful to watch his best friend, the self proclaimed God of the Dance, shake his ass on top of their kitchen table to "Anaconda."

Someone throws a dollar bill at Black*Star and Soul decide it's time to retire for the night.

He starts to head upstairs to his sanctuary, aka his room, when his classmate Liz puts a hand on his shoulder. She is teetering on four inch heels and reeks of tequila and bad decisions. "Have you seen Maka? I think we lost her."

"You lost Maka," he repeats flatly. Maka is a nineteen year old, independent genius who certainly doesn't need anyone to look after her. His good friend and in no way, shape, or form love interest Maka Albarn is also criminally cute… not that he noticed or anything. "Are you sure she didn't just leave? Because I can see the appeal in that."

"Yeah, she said she had a headache and went somewhere but now I can't find her. I want to tell her we're leaving. Kid got into the jello shots and he won't stop crying about how the Leaning Tower of Pisa is an abomination."

"Good luck with that," Soul ducks away from her hand. Liz shouts after him but he ignores it. Maka is the smartest one, in his opinion. He wishes he would have gotten lost hours ago, too.

He opens the door to his room and immediately notices something is amiss. First: All of his clothes have been neatly hung on his computer chair. Second: There is a pair of familiar looking Doc Martens by his closet. Third and perhaps most importantly: Long, bare legs are hanging off of his foldout couch. Connected to those legs is one Maka Albarn, who has commandeered all of his pillows and is spread out like she owns the place.

Soul pokes her side gently. "Found you."

"Nnrgh," she answers back. Green eyes flutter open and Maka stares at him confusedly for a moment before remembering where she is. "Sorry I fell asleep on your couch. Too noisy downstairs and everything is sticky and smells like the backseat of my dad's car."

He worms his way next to her and Maka takes the hint, moving slightly to give him room. "I didn't take you for a binge drinker."

"I'm _not_ , I haven't had one drop! Haven't gotten much sleep lately. Too much studying," she murmurs and unceremoniously drapes herself over his lap.

"Nerd. You're beyond help," Soul teases. He absently plays with her hair, wondering when it was that they got so comfortable with each other. Soul isn't usually comfortable with anyone. He likes her, he thinks, and he can live with that. "Your roommates ditched you. Want me to drive you home?"

"Mhmm," she says but makes no attempt to move. Within seconds Maka is snoring and he desperately needs a distraction. The large strip of exposed skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her skirt is very tempting. _Too_ tempting.

Soul reaches over to his desk for a marker, pulls out his cellphone, and gets to work.

* * *

"I'm exhausted," Maka announces when she finally makes her way back home. She is disgustingly giddy from the cheek kiss she received from Soul after she hopped off of his motorcycle. Maka peels off her shirt and throws it into the hamper in the bathroom. "I'm going to bed."

"Wait just one second there, missy. Did Soul take you to get a tattoo?" Liz shrieks from the couch. "Did you tramp stamp it up? Maka Albarn, you rebel!"

"What are you talking about?" Maka whines. She is not in the mood for Liz's games. "Are you still drunk?"

Her friend pulls out her cellphone and Maka hears the distinctive click of the camera phone behind her. "Here. Look. On your lower back."

Scrawled in familiar, smudged red letters on her lower back, it reads:

 _(i do not know what it is about you that closes_

 _and opens; only something in me understands_

 _the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)_

 _nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands_

"Soul?" Maka whispers, her face heating up.

"That smooth motherfucker," Liz praises. "He E.E. Cummings'd you."


	8. Day 8 - Be Mine

Day 8 - Be Mine: " _Crashed the wrong wedding and now the best man/maid of honor is on my ass, but hey they're kinda hot so?"_ AU

* * *

"This is crazy," Maka said out loud. She blended in beautifully with the other wedding guests on the shuttle bus and even though she had been muttering to herself the whole ride from NYC to Long Island, no one suspected her true intentions. "I'm going to get killed. Or worse, arrested. This is bad. This is so not like me!"

An elderly woman with a visible hearing aid smiled kindly at her. "Dear, are you a guest of the bride or the groom?"

"I'm in love with the groom," Maka said quietly.

"You're a guest of the groom?" the woman asked. "That's nice, dear."

This was all her fault, Maka thought as she politely declined the apple that the nice old woman– Soul's relative?– offered her. She had gone off to study in Japan for a year without confirming her relationship status and now Soul was getting married to some random. His parents were connected and it was a political marriage, Liz told her, but it didn't make things better.

Maka loved Soul and she was frantic to tell him before her took the plunge.

"This is really selfish. What if he really loves her? What am I doing?" Maka whispered to herself but her feet kept moving towards the outdoor area where the ceremony was being held. There had to be at least a hundred people already seated and Maka's heart was close to detonation. "I should just leave now before I embarrass myself. I really should leave."

She blamed her lack of sleep. She blamed her erratic emotions. She blamed her inherently romantic, never say die nature. She mostly blamed Liz for telling her about this goddamn wedding in the first place.

Maka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Soul! You can't get married! I mean you can, it's a free country," she babbled, "but I just need to tell you– I was stupid not to let you know how I felt earlier. _I_ love you!"

Silence. Maka cracked open one eye to find everyone turned around in their chairs to look at her. Soul, who was standing somewhere off to the side and looking delicious in his tuxedo, had been rendered completely speechless. The bride and groom– some beautiful blond and Soul's older brother, Wes– also stared in shock. Wes was the first to recover. He laughed so hard that he started choking. Soul's mother turned completely white, no doubt thinking of how this would be all over the internet tomorrow.

"Iamsosorry!" Maka managed to get out before turning tail, picking up the skirt of her gown, and running like her life depended on it.

The first thing she did was dial Liz's number. "I hope you have a will because I am going to murder you."

"I didn't say it was Soul's wedding, technically," her friend laughed. "I said it was a typical Evans political wedding. I didn't lie, did I? Did you get to tell him how you feel finally? It only took you six hundred years."

"LIZ, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF I MAKE IT OUT OF THIS ALIVE YOU BETTER START THINKING OF YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION ALIAS BECAUSE I AM GOING TO–"

"Maka?" the voice of the one person Maka didn't want to see right now came from behind her.

She tried to blend in with the expensive painting on the wall. "I'm so sorry," Maka said tearfully. She was so embarrassed. Death could not come soon enough. "I'm so, so sorry."

"You always did know how to make an entrance," Soul scoffed. "When did you get back? I would have picked you up at the airport."

How could he talk to her so normally? She had just dropped the l-bomb in front of a million people while simultaneously interrupting his brother's wedding ceremony. She was trash. "Soul. I'm sorry I made such a horrible mistake. I'm so mortified–"

Soul took her hand and pulled her towards him. "Forget it. So TMZ will talk about us tomorrow. Whatever. What was this all about, anyway?"

"B-because," Maka sniffled. "I thought you were the one getting married so I had to…" It all sounded so ridiculous. "This is the worst."

"Why would I be getting married?" Soul was mystified. He tugged her closer and Maka buried her face in the crook of his neck. "You're my girlfriend."

Wait.

Wait.

 _Huh_?

He scowled at her confused expression. "Don't tell me you didn't realize."

"No! I totally knew." _Since when_? Maka wanted to ask but now didn't seem to be the right time.

"Liar."

Ugh. When did this happen? Sure they spent copious amounts of time together before she went abroad. Sure they held hands and hugged and shared the same bed sometimes. Sure they made out and did everything together and Skyped every night… "Oh."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, I've been yours pretty much since the day you yelled at me for playing my music too loudly in the dorms. I've loved you for years, Maka."

"Oh," she said, this time more quietly.

"Wedding ceremonies are so boring," Soul laced their fingers together. "Let's ditch."

"Soul! Is that really okay?" So much for trying to get on good terms with his mother.

"We have a lot of time to make up for," he grinned that infuriating grin that she loved so much, "and I've got a hotel suite all to myself."

Maka laughed as they ran towards the exit. She was his and he was hers. She liked the sound of that. "Lead the way."


	9. Day 9 - Desire

Day 9 - Desire: _"Accidentally handcuffed together and there is no key"_ AU

* * *

"We could kill Black*Star," Maka says casually. "No one would miss him. I mean, Tsubaki might, but we could just get her a pet monkey to take his place."

Soul entertains the thought of murdering his best friend and hiding the body somewhere in the desert for a few seconds before coming back to reality. "Homicide probably won't look good on your permanent record."

Maka holds up her right hand, which is currently connected to Soul's left via handcuffs. "I think it would be worth it."

"This is the last goddamn time I entertain his stupid hobbies," Soul mutters.

"You say that every time yet here we are again, the victims of Black*Star's dumb ideas! Remember when he burned off Ox's eyebrows because he wanted to practice putting out fires? It's amazing that he hasn't gotten arrested yet," Maka huffs.

This isn't terrible, Soul thinks, all things considering. He can think of worse ways to spend a Saturday night than sitting on his bed being handcuffed to the object of his affection. For a smart girl, Maka is one of the most oblivious people that Soul knows. They are literally handcuffed together and she still has no idea that he's been crushing on her for almost a year.

Soul was going through a tough time when they met: creatively blocked, running from responsibility, and battling crippling self esteem issues. He had been taking out his frustration on the keyboard in Black*Star's living room (bought because for about three days Black*Star swore he was going to become a rock god) during a housewarming party when Maka, Black*Star's friend from high school, waltzed in and innocently said that she liked his playing. He had been smitten ever since.

Black*Star and the rest of their friends had probably gotten tired of Soul's mooning and so physically forced them together until Soul grew enough balls to tell her how he felt. It had been entirely too suspicious and convenient that none of them had the key, even the ever responsible Tsubaki.

The desire and temptation to just let his fingers brush hers is strong, which is weird because Soul usually has such a good handle on his self control. He tries to just keep looking straight ahead because he knows that his self control will crumble once they lock eyes. Soul used to be such a cool guy, he thinks, before he fell stupidly in love.

As if reading his mind, her fingers shyly touch his palm. It sends an electric shock from his arm straight to his stomach and immediately his hand clasps hers. Finally he turns his head and sees Maka giving him a shy, unsure smile. They hold hands quietly, neither one willing to break the comfortable silence. This is progress, Soul thinks wryly. Maybe sometime in the next thousand years he would work up the nerve to ask her out.

"These handcuffs have an emergency release," Maka says suddenly.

"Nice. When did you–?"

"But," Maka's face is bright red and Soul feels that pesky electric shock of desire again, "could we stay like this a little longer?"

"… yeah. That'd be okay."


	10. Day 10 - Sweetheart

Day 10 - Sweetheart: _"I'm drunk, you're cute, and I'm going to do a lot of things I'll regret in the morning"_ Future fic, Soul Eater universe. **Note** : song lyrics are by Hozier, song is "Take Me to Church".

* * *

"Dude, you are SO wasted."

Maka peered up from her book, hearing, rather than seeing, the calamity going on behind her apartment door. Black*Star had taken Soul out for a "boy's night" to celebrate his 22nd birthday and while Maka had assumed that she might have needed to post bail at some point, she had not expected her weapon to come home completely inebriated. Soul wasn't much for partying or alcohol (Control issues, probably, plus he hated to look "uncool") and he bordered on the skinnier side, so Maka surmised, quite correctly, that his tolerance was nonexistent.

Black*Star finally got Soul into the apartment (smacking Soul's head on the door frame in the process) and threw him onto Maka's lap. "Tag, you're it."

"What," Maka asked calmly, "did you do to my weapon?"

While a lap full of Soul wasn't a bad thing, he smelled like cigarettes and vodka and was that glitter in his hair? Also he was smiling. A lot. It was a little freaky.

Soul cuddled into her lap like an overgrown cat. Maka opened her mouth to berate Black*Star for letting her weapon-slash-best friend-slash-maybe boyfriend get this drunk but he was gone. "Oh, so _now_ he knows how to act like a ninja. Typical."

"Makaaaa," Soul slurred. "You're so pretty."

So Soul was an affectionate drunk. Okay, then. "You're so gone," Maka said and stroked his hair out of his face. "What did you even have?"

"Lots of stuff. Missed you, though."

She bit her lip, trying not to be pleased at the flattery. It was the alcohol talking, she reminded herself. Maka slid out from under him. "I'm going to get you some water. Sit. Stay."

"'m not a dog," he grumbled, flopping onto the couch pillows uselessly.

When Maka came back moments later with a glass of water and some Tylenol, she found Soul sitting up on the couch with his guitar. Maka had always assumed the guitar in his room was for show but with the way he was holding it, it was obvious that he knew what he was doing. But what _was_ he doing? "Uh, Soul–"

" _If I'm a pagan of the good times_ ," he sang as he strummed, " _my lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice_."

Oh no, was he serenading her? Maka was equal parts embarrassed for Soul and extraordinarily pleased for herself because he was serenading her and holy shit he had such a hot singing voice. Who knew it was possible to be sexually attracted to a voice?

" _That looks looks is hungry work_."

Down girl, Maka told herself even though the way Soul was looking at her made stomach do very odd things. He was drunk and not in his right mind, because if he was, he wouldn't be looking at her like she was the most delectable meal on the planet. "That was lovely," Maka fought to keep her voice even. She took the guitar from him and placed it gently by the couch."But let's get you to bed."

Soul pulled her down into his now empty, guitar-less lap. His thumb traced her bottom lip gently. "Your bed?"

" _No_ ," Maka said adamantly, even though her resolve was quickly crumbling. "Everyone goes to sleep in their _own_ beds."

"Aww."

He needed to stop being adorable ASAP stat. How dare he be so cute and vulnerable? This had to be illegal. "Drink the water and then sleep."

"One kiss," Soul said. "It's my birthday."

"One _small_ kiss," Maka agreed. "And then bed."

She leaned up and pressed a tiny, barely there, chaste kiss on his lips because he was drunk and she was sober and Maka would in no way take advantage of her most important person. Soul seemed content with that and let her shuffle him off to bed.

"Maka," he said from under his covers. Soul sounded more coherent than he had all night. "I love you."

Maka snickered under her breath as Soul began to snore heavily. "You're going to hate yourself so much tomorrow."

* * *

"Kill me."

Maka foisted a cup of coffee into Soul's hand. "Hungover?"

"Fucking kill me right now," he rubbed his forehead. "Thanks."

"You are such a sweetheart when you're drunk," Maka said cheerfully. "Do you remember serenading me?"

Soul groaned and tried to drown himself in the cup of coffee. "Erase that from your memory. It's so lame. I hate everything. I mostly hate Black*Star."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Soul blushed instantly. "Should I erase the love confession, too?"

"… no. Keep that. But pretend I did it better. And sober."

"Deal."


	11. Day 11 - Greeting Card

Day 11 - Greeting Card: " _We both like each other but we can't get our shit together without outside interference_ " Future fic, Soul Eater universe

* * *

It starts innocently enough with a card in Soul's locker.

Soul is now eighteen and smart enough to throw out any sort of love letter or request in front of Maka because he knows it's a Thing, he tells her, and while her jealousy is cute, he has no desire to be Maka Chop'd in genitals.

"Huh," Soul says as he scans over the card. "Interesting."

"What?" Maka pretends to be casual even though she is dying to know what is written on the card. It's plain white and void of any visual clues. Is it a love letter? A partner request? A marriage proposal? "What's up?"

"Nothing," he folds up the card and sticks it in his back pocket. "I'll meet you back at the apartment for dinner. It's your turn to cook."

Curiosity burns in her chest. Her jealousy is stifling. "I'm making stir fry," Maka says, even though what she really wants to do is rip the card from his pocket like the crazy person she is. She doesn't have that right, Maka reminds herself. He is not her boyfriend.

Soul reaches out to her. Gentle fingers stroke a stray hair that has fallen out of her pigtail. He is driving her insane and he has absolutely no idea. Or maybe he does, Maka thinks, with the way he is grinning at her. "Put extra steak in mine. See you."

"Bye."

 _I don't care_ , Maka tells herself over and over.

She stares at his locker with a glare so heated it could burn a hole through the metal.

 _I definitely DON'T care._

* * *

"I don't actually care at all," becomes Maka's personal mantra and no one, even Black*Star, is fooled. "Soul is an adult and he can do whatever he wants. Do I care who he hangs out with? Do I care that he was being suspicious and secretive? Do I care if he runs away with that redhead meister with big boobs from the EAT class? I don't."

"Then why have you been talking about it for the last half an hour?" Black*Star finally looks up from his video game. "For someone who 'doesn't care', you seem to care a LOT."

Maka throws a pen at his head. "Shut up, Black*Star! When did you get perceptive?"

"Your God knows all," he tells her. Black*Star grabs her wrist and drags her off of campus none too gently. "You're lucky your God is a benevolent one. Let's go."

She blinks at him. "Go where?"

"To spy on Soul."

* * *

On a scale of 1 to "Let Patti get drunk at the zoo and terrorize the giraffes", the _Spy on Soul_ mission is at least a hundred in terms of bad ideas. Black*Star is, for all intents and purposes, a shitty assassin. Blending in is just not his forte.

As soon as they step into the diner (Black*Star is good at tracking and apparently Soul had been stupid enough to tell his friend where he was going) he announces their presence in a loud voice and "stealth" flies out the window. Maka wants to die.

Soul is sitting across from a girl that Maka vaguely recognizes. She is a weapon, like Soul, a dagger-axe from Hong Kong and she is, for lack of a better term, hot. Tall, slender, with a punk rock sensibility from her short turquoise hair to her leather pants to her winged eyeliner, she is absolutely gorgeous. Maka is immediately self conscious and wants to jump through a window to escape.

Without invitation, Black*Star drops into the booth next to Soul. Both Soul and Dagger-Axe look a bit surprised but no one is kicking them out. Maka slumps next to Soul's date and tries not to hyperventilate. This is karmic retribution for listening to Black*Star's dumb ass plans, Maka thinks. She should know better.

"'sup, bro?" Black*Stay asks casually.

"I'm really sorry about this," Maka says to both Soul and Dagger-Axe. "Black*Star suffered a lot of head trauma as a baby."

Dagger-Axe laughs. She has a tongue ring. She has a tongue ring and Maka sits at home and cries while reading historical romance novels. This is the worst kind of torture. "Don't worry about it."

"What are you guys doing here?" Soul asks Black*Star.

"On a date," Black*Star says around a mouthful of bread.

Someone gasps. Maka thinks it might have been her. "What?" Soul asks, as if it's the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard because it is.

"Yeah, dude. You can't think you're the only one with the hots for Maka? I mean, tiny tits as they may be–" Maka kicks him under the table, "– she's not hideous or anything."

"Oh gee, thanks," Maka says dryly.

Dagger-Axe– Jenny? Janet? Jessica? Maka can't recall– puts her hand up. "Uh, I think there's been some sort of–"

It happens in slow motion. One moment Maka is leaning over the table to slap the bread basket out of Black*Star's hand and the next he is tugging her by her pigtail and his lips are on hers. Someone screams. Maka thinks it might have been her but it is muffled by Black*Star's mouth which still has bread in it.

"Dude," Soul pulls Black*Star back into his seat. He grimaces and Black*Star laughs riotously. "Gross. No."

"There has definitely been some sort of misunderstanding," Jenny or Janet or Jessica says. "We're not here on a date. I was asking Soul if he would be okay with me asking Maka to partner up."

Maka is frozen solid. She cannot function on a human level anymore. She has no idea how to handle any of this.

"All of the weapons know that Maka is off limits because Soul is her guard dog," Jenny or Janet or Jessica continues, "so I thought it would be smart to get his blessing first. He's so stubborn, though. Someone must have missed that lesson in kindergarten about sharing."

Soul shrugs. "Sorry." He doesn't sound very sorry at all, actually. And is he really not going to address the fact that her mouth had been accosted by Black*Star who is now stealing fries off of Soul's plate?

"Besides, Soul's not even my type."

"What's wrong with him?" Maka asks defensively. Only she is allowed to badmouth Soul, thank you very much.

Jenny or Janet or Jessica shrugs. "He's a boy and I'm gay so I don't think wedding bells are in our future."

"Ooooh," Maka says at the same time Black*Star screams, "NICE!" Soul nudges him in the stomach with his elbow.

"I need to go now and think about my life choices," Maka excuses herself and runs out of the diner. Maybe if she is lucky, a car will hit her and put her out of her misery.

Black*Star and Soul catch up to her easily. Soul's grin is infuriating. "Aren't you Miss Popularity."

Maka tries not to cry. "Haha. I get it. I screwed up. And now I have to gargle bleach to get the taste of Black*Star off of my tongue." She sighs. "I suck."

"Yeah, you do," Black*Star agrees, "but isn't anyone going to talk about how your awesome God helped you two get together?"

Soul punches Black*Star in the arm. Hard. "You stuck your tongue in my meister's mouth, you dick. That doesn't count as 'helping'."

Black*Star shrugs. "But my divine intervention worked, didn't it?"

Soul and Maka look at each other. "Did it?" Soul asks.

"Yeah," Maka says. "It did."

"Good," Soul slips his hand in hers. He kisses her right there in the street and Black*Star whistles loudly. "Disinfection," he teases.

"You just secondhand kissed Black*Star," she teases back.

"Don't say that or I'll cry."


	12. Day 12 - Smitten

Day 12 - Smitten: _My roommate's boyfriend is staying over so can I please sleep on your floor_ " AU – Song referenced is the wonderful Etta James' _Prisoner of Love_

* * *

Soul was hunched over his sheet music when he heard a knock on his dorm door. He lowered the volume on his speaker, wondering if in his pre-exam delirium he had imagined it. At first the knock was tentative and quiet but then grew bolder as if annoyed that he hadn't immediately opened the door. It was 1:04 am on a Friday night, so Soul had a good idea of who was demanding his attention.

"At this point, I should just give you a key," Soul said, amused. As expected, Maka Albarn stood there with a pillow under one arm and her blanket in the other. Also as expected, she looked absolutely adorable and disheveled, as if rudely roused from her sleep. "Did Liz bring another guy over?"

Maka waltzed into his room and made herself comfortable on his twin bed. She was wearing the obscure band t-shirt he thought had gotten lost in the laundry. Her hair looked like it ate the last brush that tried to come near it. How was it possible for one person to be so cute? "She brought two guys over and one of them was dressed in a banana costume and honestly I cut out before I could figure out why. Can I sleep on your floor tonight? Please?"

Usually when Liz brought a guy over, Maka stayed in Soul's room for a couple of hours before the coast was clear and she could safely sleep in her own bed without having to worry about gross sex noises. _Can I sleep in your room_ was a new development and it was one that Soul wasn't sure he was comfortable with. Battling his feelings for her was hard enough without her looking so good in his stolen t-shirt and sleeping in his sanctuary. "You can't sleep on the floor, it's freezing."

"Fine, then let's share the bed."

Every alarm, bell, whistle, and red flag went off in Soul's head. His first instinct was to scream Fuck no! because that was dangerous for all sorts of reasons. Maka took his silence as rejection and her face fell. He was a goner, he thought, because he couldn't say no to that damn puppy face. "Maka, I don't think–"

"I don't take up that much room," Maka insisted. "I'll leave really early in the morning. Please?"

 _Along from night to night you'll find me,_ the beautiful voice from his computer sang _, too weak to break the chains that bind me, I need no shackles to remind me, that I'm just a prisoner of love._

That was how he found himself spooning the girl he had been smitten with since Liz had introduced them two years ago. Maka had been a bright eyed, pigtailed freshman and he a cynical, antisocial sophomore but somehow they had just clicked. It hadn't taken long before Soul had fallen in love with her the way most people fell off buildings– hard, fast, and painfully– and now he was paying the price for it.

"Soul, are you sleeping?" Maka asked from behind him. Uncool as it was, at least if Soul was facing the wall and Maka was the big spoon, she wouldn't be about to feel any sort of bodily betrayals like morning wood.

"Yes," Soul said, wondering what he did in a past life to deserve this kind of torture. He could feel her pressed to his back, all soft and smelling good and wearing his fucking t-shirt, Jesus Christ.

"How come you're not trying anything?" Maka blurted out. _Prisoner of Love_ repeated over and over on his computer and it couldn't be more fitting. "My body can't be that boring."

"What."

Maka scrambled to sit up. "Well, it's just that– don't you like me? Oh no, did I get the signals wrong? Everyone said you liked me and it takes me a long time to realize these things but I like you so I thought–"

Soul rolled over in bed. Even in the dark, with only the street lights illuminating the room, he could see her blushing. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Um. Yes. Is it working?"

He started laughing, which was the wrong thing to do because Maka looked highly offended. She smacked him in the face with her pillow. "You're really bad at this," Soul said between chuckles. He was so relieved that all of that sexual tension wasn't one sided.

"Forget it," Maka said hotly. "This was stupid. I'm stupid. I'm going to go sleep outside and let the squirrels eat my flesh because that would be less painful right now."

Soul grabbed her arm and pulled her back down onto the bed. "Stop. Your problem is you think too much."

"YOUR problem is that your face is stupimmppph–"

He cut her off with a kiss because finally, finally they could graduate from "everyone thinks we're dating" to "we're actually dating, now take off your pants". "I like you."

"G-good," Maka's voice trembled. "Very good."

"Yeah."

"Mhhhm."

"Okay, stop trying to get the last word."

"Well _maybe_ if youmpppph–"

Soul grinned against her mouth.

 _From one who's master of my fate now, I can't escape, for it's too late now, that I'm just a prisoner of love._


	13. Day 13 - Bow & Arrow

Day 13 - Bow & Arrow: tumblr user makapedia's "Black*Star is Maka's protective, older, adopted brother" AU – seriously, I implore you to read all that she has written on this, it is golden.

* * *

This triple date was, for the most part, a shit show of epic proportions.

Why he had agreed to go on a date with his freshly ex girlfriend who he was still madly in love with and her stupid brother (and his best friend) who was the reason for the break up in the first place, Soul didn't even know.

Black*Star had screamed that this was a _brotatorship_ NOT a _brorocracy_ and Soul needed to get his shit together and stop trying to "get it in" with his little sister. It was a no win situation where someone would inevitably get hurt but Soul didn't want to come between the siblings. He did the kind thing, the noble thing, and told Maka that they should just remain good friends.

Maka hadn't taken it well. She didn't cry or scream or give him a concussion with a book. No, Maka had a quiet sort of rage that shook Soul to the core. _I understand_ , was all that she said.

Soul was a dead man walking and they both knew it.

She went through a parade of boys with a vengeance. Every day of the week was another athlete, another date, much to Soul and Black*Star's horror. Skirts were getting shorter. Actions were getting bolder. There was hand holding and giggling and right now it was literally the worst kind of torture to have to pretend to be interested in another girl while he watched the girl he really wanted flirt with a guy– not him– three inches away.

"Maka, I love your dress," Tsubaki, the only sane person at the table, said.

"Thank you, Tsubaki!" Maka trilled.

The scrap of floaty material that Maka called a dress was giving Soul high blood pressure. Black*Star looked close to stroking out right there in the diner but he knew that he reaped what had he sewn and even his "Godly" status could not save him now.

"Tsubaki, could you tell Maka to pass the ketchup?" Soul asked, half because Maka wouldn't look at him but mostly because he was being a complete brat. "That is, if she can pull her attention away from Jock-y McTestosterone over there for one second."

"Tsubaki, could you please tell Soul to grow up and also brush his hair because he looks like a hobo?" Maka replied coolly.

"Tsubaki, could you tell Maka that she doesn't have the tits to fill out that dress?" Oh good, he had reverted back to twelve year old Soul who could only show his affection by insulting Maka.

Her eyes narrowed. Black*Star excused himself to "take an hour long piss and Tsubaki, come get him when dinner was out". Soul thought his "brotato chip" was the biggest traitor of all. "Tsubaki, could you please tell Soul that his jealousy is not very cute?"

"Tsubaki, could you–"

" _Excuse me_ ," Tsubaki said tersely. "Perhaps Soul and Maka, you two should excuse yourselves and talk about whatever is bothering you?"

Maka folded her arms over her chest petulantly. "Why should I–"

"Good idea," Soul grabbed Maka and dragged her to the parking lot outside. She elbowed him in the side, _hard_ , but Soul didn't let up until they were alone. "We should talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said. "You made your choice now you have to live with it."

"Come on, don't act like this was an easy thing," Soul ran his hand through his hair. Did he really look like a hobo? Uncool.

"What do you want from me?" Maka was finally losing her cool. If Soul made it out of this without a hospital visit, it would be a miracle. "You told me you just wanted to be friends. So we're being friends! You're just going to have to deal with the fact that I'm going to date other people." She narrowed her eyes again and Soul felt his penis retreat into his body in pure, unadulterated fear. "Don't even pretend that you're not loving all of the attention you're getting from _your_ new cheerleader girlfriend."

He snorted. "And you're calling _me_ jealous?"

"Shut up!"

"And what's with you looking all hot for this stupid date?"

Maka opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult. "I said shut up, Soul!"

"Make me."

* * *

When Black*Star came back to find Soul and Maka missing, he was worried. It was possible that his little sister had snapped and finally murdered Soul and the blood would be on Black*Star's hands. He knew what he had to do, even if it killed him to do it. He was their God of Love, their Cupid, the one who wielded the mighty love arrow. It was time to make things right.

He rounded the corner to the parking lot with Tsubaki in tow, prepared to bestow benevolence unto his followers and allow them to date. With rules, of course, like no playing "hide the sausage" because ew.

Black*Star watched in horror as Soul and Maka made out in the parking lot behind the diner. His best friend had his sister pressed up against a brick wall and Black*Star thought he was going to blow chunks right then and there. He started to stomp towards them to tell them to cut that nasty shit out when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we should leave them alone," Tsubaki said sweetly.

"But–"

"I _said_ ," Tsubaki repeated and Black*Star knew this was not a suggestion so much as a command, "let's leave them alone."

"… yes'm."


	14. Day 14 - True Love

Day 14 - True Love: " _Meeting when our mutual friend calls us to bail him out of jail_ " AU. This takes place in the same universe as Day 1 c:

* * *

"So, what're you in for?" a deep, throaty voice asked, breaking Maka out of her reverie. It was close to 2:00 am on a Saturday night and instead of sleeping like a normal person, Maka was at the local precinct bailing Black*Star out of jail.

Maka's head snapped up from the paperwork she was filling out. "Oh, I'm not–"

Of course. Of _course_. It was 2:00 am, Maka was under ugly fluorescent police precinct lights still wearing her Hello Kitty pajama pants and NYU sweatshirt and she was face to face with Soul Evans, who she had not seen since he left for Europe on his magical mystery music tour some months ago. He still had that scruffy musician thing going for him with his low riding jeans and messy white hair and oh god, were those tattoos? When did Maka start being attracted to tattoos?

"Black*Star?" Soul asked.

"Black*Star," Maka confirmed. "You?"

"Yeah. I guess he figured both of us couldn't say no," Soul huffed out a laugh. He looked down at her pants. " _Hello_ , Kitty."

"Shut your face," Maka groused, her face going bright red. "I don't need this right now. I'm very busy making sure Black*Star doesn't become someone's jail girlfriend."

Soul peered over her shoulder. She could smell his soap and _wow_ was it inappropriate to be thinking romantic thoughts in a police precinct. Stupid Black*Star. He should have at least warned her to put on some lipstick. "Finish school yet?"

"Mhmm," Maka squeaked. She cleared her throat. "Working on my PhD now. How was Europe?"

"Europe's Europe," Soul shrugged.

"Spoken like a true rich kid," Maka teased. "Some of us would kill to see the world."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched. Soul was hurting. Maka had to stop herself from reaching out to him. "I invited you to come."

"I couldn't just drop everything and run halfway across the world." She regretted not going. Maka regretted a lot of things about their relationship. She mostly regretted telling him that they should break up because he'd probably fuck a supermodel and/or groupie in Europe. "Dating anyone?" Maka asked, hoping to sound casual.

"A French supermodel slash groupie," Soul leaned his back against the counter.

"Oh," Maka's voice went quiet.

"Idiot, I'm kidding. There's no one."

"Oh!" Maka brightened up. Hope blossomed in her chest. Was there still a chance? "I mean, not that it's a good thing that you're single… or anything."

Soul took her hand, his thumb stroking her palm gently. One of the cops hanging around needed to arrest this man for attempted murder because Maka was going to drop dead right then and there. "There can't be anyone else."

"Oh," Maka whispered. She leaned closer to him until they were nose to nose. It would be so, so easy to kiss him, she thought. "Soul…"

"OY!" a loud voice boomed. "STOP FLIRTING AND GET YOUR GOD THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!"

Soul looked over at Black*Star and then back to Maka. "It probably wouldn't kill him to spend the night here."

Maka nodded eagerly. "It might even be a good thing. Maybe he'll learn from his mistakes?"

"Doubt it. Come back to my apartment for a bowl of Honey Bran Cluster Oats," Soul joked. "I probably still have a whole cabinet of unopened boxes."

That was it. Maka couldn't take it anymore. She had missed him so much and he was so hot and she loved him so desperately and fuck Europe for keeping him away for so long. Maka threw her arms around Soul and kissed him. She kissed him and kissed him while the police officers cheered in the background.

Maka finally pulled away, breathing hard. "I won't let you go again."

"Good," Soul grinned. "Because I don't want you to."

"OH, YOU _FUCKING ASSHOLES_! GET BACK HERE!" Black*Star screamed. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING? TRAITORS!"


End file.
